


Non-Stop to Houston, TX.

by kesdax



Series: first meetings au [3]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 14:32:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3253289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kesdax/pseuds/kesdax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two strangers. Nine hours to kill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Non-Stop to Houston, TX.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thedorkone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedorkone/gifts).



> Written for a tumblr pompt: meeting on a train ride au

“Cole, I’m going to need an extraction. _Fast_ ,” Shaw added as a gunshot rang out behind her.

“Uh…” said Cole. He was panicking and Shaw had to force herself not to snap at him.

“Cole,” she prompted.

“Platform three,” he said quickly. “The train’s about to leave. Hurry.”

Shaw quickened her step, not fast enough to draw the attention of her pursuers as she hid herself amongst the crowd. She was just another commuter running late for her train, making it to the doors and slipping inside at the last minute. The conductor scowled at her as she pushed a stray bang out of her face. Shaw glared back, quickly moving through the carriage in search of a seat as the train pulled out of the station.

“Where am I going?” Shaw asked, eyes darting around the crowded train. This carriage was full so she had to move through into the next one.

“Texas,” said Cole. Shaw could hear the smirk in his voice and groaned. “Didn’t you grow up there?”

“Not exactly,” Shaw muttered. Nine months living in an army barracks when she five didn’t count.

“Well,” said Cole. “Enjoy your nine hour train ride. I’ll be thinking of you with my legs stretched out in business class.”

“I hate you,” Shaw muttered, but Cole had already cut the connection.

She sighed as she made her way through the train, cringing at the sight of loved-up couples and bustling families with their kids screaming their heads off. There might have been an empty seat amongst them, but Shaw wasn’t inclined to find out. Instead she headed for the back of the train. It was full too, but she spotted a lonely passenger at the back, sitting next to the window, with her laptop bag on the seat next to her.

“Is this seat taken?” Shaw asked. The woman glanced up from the laptop she was typing on, looking Shaw up and down. She smirked, eyes lingering in places they had no right to linger and Shaw shifted on her feet, uncomfortable under the scrutiny and wondering if she could cope with nine hours sitting next to a screaming five year old.

“Of course,” said the woman, moving the laptop case from the chair and putting it down at her feet.

Shaw hesitated for a moment, but the thought of nine hours on her feet or crammed next arguably worse passengers was enough to get her scrambling to sit down. Thankfully, the woman seemed busy enough, resuming whatever she was doing on her laptop and leaving Shaw in peace. She might even get some shut eye on this thing, although she was still on edge and half expecting her pursuers to turn up suddenly along the aisle.

About an hour passed before the woman, still not saying a word, finished whatever she was doing on her laptop and shut it off, putting it back in its case and tucking it away at her feet. Shaw stared determinedly down the aisle, feeling the woman’s eyes on her.

Not normally one to pray to a higher deity - she didn’t even believe in a higher deity - Shaw begged whoever was listening to just let her have the rest of this train journey in blessed silence.

Unsurprisingly, she was ignored.

“I’m Root, by the way,” said the woman. Her voice was low and raspy, like this knowledge was meant to be just for Shaw’s ears only. Shaw remained stoically silent, figuring the woman - Root - would take the hint and shut up. “Not much of a talker, huh?” she continued. “I get that.”

Shaw ground her teeth together. Evidently Root _was_ a talker. But at least she hadn’t asked about the weather yet.

“So what takes you to Texas?” Root asked, undeterred by Shaw’s lack of cooperation in the conversation. So much for avoiding small talk. “Have you been before? It gets sickeningly hot in the summer. Winters aren’t much better. And you always -”

“Look,” Shaw snapped. “I’m not on this train to make friends.”

“Who said anything about making friends?” Root smirked. Then she leaned right over Shaw, so close that Shaw could smell the shampoo she had used that morning, feel the warmth of her skin.

Shaw swallowed. “What are you-” she croaked.

“Can we get two whiskies please?” Root said. Shaw darted her eyes back down the aisle, noticing the drinks carriage now making its way towards them and quickly shoved Root away from her. Root smiled at her coyly. “Better make that four,” she said to the guy as he handed over two miniature bottles and two plastic cups. Root gave him a fifty dollar bill and told him to keep the change. “Here,” she said, emptying one of the miniatures into a plastic cup and handing it to Shaw. “Drink up.”

Shaw took it reflexively and scowled.

“It’s a nine hour train journey,” said Root reasonably. “We have eight left. Do you really want to spend them sober?”

_No_ , Shaw decided and downed her whisky. Root smirked and poured her a second.

~#~

“Sam,” said Shaw after Root asked and paid for more whisky. The alcohol loosened her tongue, made her more talkative. Much to her annoyance. Root glanced at her in surprise, eyebrow raised. “My name,” she explained.

“Oh,” said Root and tapped their plastic cups together in a mock toast. “Nice to meet you, Sam.”

The spent their third and fourth drinks in relative silence. Shaw tried not to squirm underneath the looks - well, more like _leers_ \- Root was giving her. When she glanced at her out of the corner of her eye, something about the way the sunlight shone through the window lit up the colours in her hair, almost like the copper and blonde hues were dancing - or perhaps battling - with each other. Shaw cleared her throat and took another drink. Technically, she was still on the job. Although, _technically_ , she wasn’t supposed to drink on the job either…

“What are you going to Texas for?” Shaw asked. “Business?” She was prying, not just out of boredom and the effects of the alcohol, but because she was curious. The more Root drank, the more evident it became that she had hints of a Texas twang to her accent. She hid it well, but the alcohol loosed her tongue too, it would seem.

“Something like that,” said Root vaguely. “What about you? You don’t have any luggage. Business trip?”

“Something like that,” said Shaw, equally as vague.

~#~

The next time Root ordered from the trolley, she cleared him out and when he threatened to cut them off, she leaned over, resting one hand on Shaw’s thigh, and pressed several hundred dollar bills in his hand. She winked at him as she leaned back in her seat and he gave her all the whisky he had without further protest. Her hand still lingered on Shaw’s thigh, warm and solid. Shaw inhaled sharply and stared at it, wondering why she had yet to shove it away. When she glanced up, she found Root’s eyes boring into her, intentions clear.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Shaw said, annoyed at how hoarse her voice sounded, deep with arousal she wasn’t expecting. Root’s hand slid from her thigh as she stood up, legs wavering a bit from a combination of sitting too long and far too much whisky on an empty stomach.

The bathroom wasn’t far and Shaw made it without stumbling much, locking herself inside and splashing cold water on her face.

It didn’t help.

Nor did the sight of Root slipping into the small space, locking the door behind her.

“How did you get in here?” Shaw asked, turning around sharply. Root just waggled her eyebrows infuriatingly.

“Would you like me to leave?” Root asked, grinning like she already knew the answer. “To be honest… I can’t think of a better way to kill the remaining six and half hours.”

_Yes_ , Shaw thought. “No,” Shaw said instead, the word tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop it.

“No what?” Root asked.

“No,” said Shaw through gritted teeth as she took a step closer. In the small space, Root could do nothing but press herself further into the door. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Root grinned and Shaw wiped it from her face with her lips, hands roughly gripping Root’s shirt so she could pull her head down closer. This height difference was a pain in the ass and she got the distinct impression that Root was enjoying it immensely. A tongue slid into her mouth, taking Shaw by surprise for a moment and allowing Root to push her backwards into the sink. Shaw hissed as the hard edges dug into her hips and Root’s hands found her waist, sneaking under her shirt, feeling warm and soft against Shaw’s skin. Her nails scraped across Shaw’s flesh and she let out a groan as they snaked their way around to her back, pulling her closer against Root’s body.

Root froze, pulling back slightly with an intrigued smile. “Is that what I think it is?” she asked, feeling at Shaw’s back and pulling something out of the waistband of Shaw’s pants.

“It’s for work,” Shaw said, quickly snatching her USP Compact back.

“Hey,” said Root placatingly. “I’m not judging.”

“Whatever,” Shaw muttered, shoving Root away from her and tucking her gun away. This was a bad idea, no matter how drunk or bored she was. She quickly slipped out of the bathroom, returning to her seat and not caring if Root followed her or not. There was still some whisky left and Shaw quickly downed another one, straight from the bottle, not sure if she was looking for Dutch courage or to just wipe the last ten minutes from her memory. Root returned a few minutes later, slipping past Shaw into the window seat. She was slow, deliberately so, ensuring to push her ass as far into Shaw’s face as possible. Shaw grunted with the effort of leaning away as much as she could and was relieved when Root finally took her seat.

“So,” said Root, draining the last of their stash of whisky. “What are we gonna do for the next six hours? Wanna play I, Spy?” she asked, grinning wickedly.

Shaw groaned.

~#~

_Six hours later…_

“Enjoy your trip?”

Shaw glared at the way Cole was leaning comfortably against one of the pillars in the train station. He looked well rested and bright when he smiled at her as she walked towards him, weaving in and out of the crowd of people stepping off the train from New Orleans.

“Never do that to me again,” Shaw warned.

Cole shrugged. It wasn’t all that often he became fazed by her grouchiness and over the years he had learned to arm himself against it. “Pastrami, pepperoncini and all that gross mustard stuff that you like,” he said, swinging a brown paper bag out from behind his back. “I’m assuming the food on the train wasn’t up to Sameen Shaw’s standards.”

Staring at the bag for a moment, Shaw glanced between it and Cole before quickly snatching it out of his hand and tearing open the wrapper. The first bite was always the most delicious and Shaw groaned as she sunk her teeth into it, ignoring Cole’s eye roll.

“So, anything interesting happen in the last nine hours?” he asked, pulling a disgusted face when he caught the sight of Shaw taking her second bite.

“No,” she lied through a mouthful of sandwich. He didn’t need to know about her encounter and she was more than willing to forget all about it. But that didn’t stop her eyes from quickly searching the train station as they left, eyes keen to catch a glimpse of brown hair with coppery hues and feeling more than a little disappointed when there was no sign of the mysterious - and just as irritating - Root.


End file.
